The Last Words
by BlueSphinx
Summary: Ginny and Harry share a moment after Voldemort's demise.


**Author's Note**: Character death, angst, and snow. If you don't like, don't read. If you do like then read and review.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

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**The Last Words**

Ginny sat in the snow, next to a motionless Harry, their heads touching each other, their hair mingling, small gentle flakes covering them both. She was sitting in a world of greys and blues; the blue clouds, the grey trees; the blue snow, the grey ruins behind their backs; her blue mood and their grey bodies leaning on each other. She had always thought that no other colours were needed in the world.

Right now she wasn't crying. She had been, earlier, but then she remembered how they had dreamed of a night just like this — snow falling softly, no one else there to distract them, only the two of them to keep each other company. Of course, in their dreams the house had still been standing, ready to offer them the warmth of the flames cracking in the fireplace, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate to warm up their numb fingers and toes.

Ginny's fingers and toes were numb, and she knew that Harry's were, too. Yet she didn't care to warm hers up; and his were past the point of any warmth.

In their dream the world had still been living in fear of Voldemort, contrary to the present. Now the world was rejoicing, and Ginny knew she should be, too. She had no reason not to; they had won, they had saved the world, and they were together.

The white flakes floated down on them, covering their intertwined bodies just like they covered the ruins of their past. It had been short, but it had been theirs and theirs alone. But it had ended like they had always known it would end.

---

"_It's Him! Run! Go and alert the Order! Run! Don't come back!"_

---

Funny, how they had long ago stopped calling Voldemort by his name, by any of his names. Now it was just He, when they talked about him. But usually that subject even didn't come up, though they both knew that the time was nearing. They didn't talk much about anything. They just waited for the snow because for some unexplainable reason they thought that snow would bring peace.

Snow had brought peace, but Ginny felt it was not suitable in this situation. Tears weren't supposed to be white and soft and comforting. Numbing, yes, and cold, but not something like that. Ginny wished it was still warm and wet and muddy outside.

But at least they could sit in the snow, arms circling each other, their fingers and toes numb, and then arms and legs, and then the rest.

Harry had already managed that, but Ginny was still a few paces away; her tears were still quite alive, as was her breath. And her memories.

---

"_Run! Don't come back!" he shouted, and, "I hate you!"_

---

How chivalrous of him, and how ridiculous. Of course he understood that Ginny wouldn't just go and leave him there alone to do all the fighting. She loved him too much for that. But was it just his attempt to make her leave that he told her he hated her? Or was there something more to it?

Ginny could have asked now, of course, but she didn't want to. It was cold and she wanted to keep her mouth shut. It wasn't time, yet.

She pressed her red cheek against Harry's pale and cold one. This touch was worth more than any word would be.

---

_Ginny ignited the logs in the fireplace with a flick of her wand, and Harry ran out of the door, closing it after him. A few spells flew through the darkness and cold outside, and Ginny's hand halted on its way to the pot of Floo powder._

_If only it started snowing, Ginny thought as her gaze flickered to the window which opened to a bleak and dark forest._

_She saw a blaze of green, and then there was laughter._

---

Who would have thought that it would start snowing! And that snow would actually bring the peace they had striven for. And who would have thought they could sit in the snow like that, leaning on each other, far away from the world.

She had tried to use her wand to kill the flames in the fireplace, but instead the fire had spread. The house had been flaming like a torch some time ago, like a beacon to notify everybody of the climacteric events of this night. But snow had calmed the fire, and peace had descended on the clearing.

And now, her wand lay broken somewhere deep in the grey snow over by the grey trees, next to his. She didn't know what she had done, and how she had done it. And she didn't want to know. It wasn't important.

And the feeling in her heart had nothing to do with that.

---

"_You are evil! And you are… evil! And…" she shouted, not knowing what she was supposed to do now, and not caring either. She ran, and she stumbled, and she fell onto the frozen ground, face down before Him._

_The laughter only rose in pitch as Ginny got to her feet. Everything was bathed in the green glow from the scull above their heads — the brown ground, the blazing dark red house, the black trunks of the trees._

_Ginny wasn't thinking. Her brain was filled with the cold laughter. There was only hate left in her, and revenge, and immense love._

_She concentrated on holding her hand steady, willing the horror to end, and the peace to come._

---

In the end it was the disarray and devastation in the ranks of the Death Eaters that alerted the Order that something was amiss. It was the loss of their opponent that broke down the Order of the Phoenix.

But all that Ginny saw was blue and grey. She watched as the crystals of her breath floated down on her white gown of snow, and turned to look at Harry for one last moment. It was time, now.

"I hate you, too," she said, her jaw stiff from the cold, and she smiled.

And then she closed her eyes.


End file.
